


Children of the Night

by brevitas



Series: Learn to Howl [3]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M, Vampire AU, Werewolf AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-04-22
Packaged: 2017-12-09 05:35:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/770592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brevitas/pseuds/brevitas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras has a taste of Grantaire's blood and his vampiric friends arrive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Children of the Night

The morning of the 'I love you' incident thankfully passes rather quickly. The pack eventually tires of making Grantaire squirm and dutifully go out on the patrols he requests from them. Courfeyrac can't resist singing "Taire and Enjy sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G," on his way out the door and Grantaire savagely swats at him when he passes.

The only good thing is that Enjolras is apparently entranced with the expanded libary, and ends up disappearing amongst its shelves after breakfast. Grantaire is fine with that; he's feeling a little on edge and excuses himself for a hunt, tells Enjolras that he'll be back soon and that if he needs anything, Marius is just in the next room.

Enjolras barely spares the time to nod at him, perusing a newer book on a potential governmental system that sounds terribly interesting, and settles on the floor to read. With all the years he has gotten to live he's honed his voracious appetite for learning, and he has no problems sitting down to read for a couple of hours.

He's scribbling in the margins while he reads and is halfway through the novel when the back door bangs open and he hears shouting. He looks up, curious, and frowns but does not move--if it's pack business he's not allowed to get involved, and would be asking for a fight if he tried.

He hears the kitchen table scrape the floor as it gets roughly pushed back a few inches, and taps his pen against the page. It may not be his place but he's sure they would tolerate a little peek; as he rises and makes his way to the kitchen he quickly becomes aware of the scent of blood, and parts his mouth to taste it on his palate. His fangs engorge and he licks his lips, slows as he gets closer.

He nearly collides with Courfeyrac, who comes around the corner wiping blood off his hands. "Whoops," he says with a laugh as he dances sideways, getting out of his way. "My bad."

Convulsively Enjolras' throat tightens, and he grits his teeth when he asks, "Is everybody alright?" He's incredibly proud of his ability to be coherent as when he fed last night he didn't drink nearly enough, and there's something about this blood that smells absolutely tantalizing.

"Oh, sure," Courfeyrac says, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "Taire was just being his usual self and was stupid enough to get gored."

"Ah." Enjolras looks past him, but from this angle can only see Feuilly standing at Grantaire's feet. "But he's fine?"

Courfeyrac scrubs at some blood pooled between his fingers and is distracted enough that he misses the way Enjolras' pupils expand at the sight, swallowing his blue irises. "Yeah, yeah, he's fine. Bossuet is wrapping the wound and then we're putting him on couch arrest." He chuckles and glances up, and Enjolras has smoothed out his appearance so he looks rather normal. "Get it? So he can't get off the couch?"

He allows a tight-lipped smile so as to not flash his fangs and says, "Yes, very funny. I'm going to go see to him, if you don't mind." Courfeyrac shakes his head and gets out of his way and Enjolras continues on, clasping his hands very tightly behind his back.

Grantaire is sitting on the table complaining loudly about getting manhandled while Bossuet bandages his chest, where thankfully the wound is entirely covered. He seems to have received a few smaller scratches from being thrown but they've already scabbed, and he itches at the biggest one on his cheek.

Feuilly looks over when Enjolras arrives and chuckles, a cigarette in his mouth and his arms crossed over his chest. "It's not that bad," he remarks, mistaking Enjolras' pinched expression for concern. "He should be back to normal in a few days."

"That's good," Enjolras replies calmly and Bossuet tucks in the tail end of the bandage, doublechecks how tight it is before he steps back.

"Alright, R," he says decisively. "You're done."

"Thank god," Grantaire bemoans, putting his arms down and grinning at Enjolras. "You wouldn't believe what they've put me through."

"I'm sure it was terrible," Enjolras replies, producing a smile, and Grantaire smirks.

"Do you wanna do me a favor?" He asks, and puts out his arms. "Because you should carry me to the couch."

Feuilly laughs and Enjolras knows it's a joke but he also knows that Grantaire has picked at the scab enough on his cheek that it's bleeding again; he smiles, close-mouthed, and says, "Certainly."

The wolves regard him in utter awe as he crosses the room and picks Grantaire up, whose too surprised to struggle. Enjolras nods to Feuilly and Bossuet and pushes open the door to the living room with his shoulder, carefully picking his way over Courfeyrac and Gavroche's toys that are scattered on the floor. "Here," he says, bending down to set Grantaire on 'his' couch. "Enjoy."

"Thanks," Grantaire answers curiously, but Enjolras doesn't lean back, and his black eyes track the drop of blood that trembles on the edge of Grantaire's cut before plummeting down his cheek. Enjolras reaches out and catches it on his thumb, the drop quivering at the tip of his finger.

"You're bleeding," he says but his voice is different, and Grantaire only notices then how black his eyes are. Enjolras brings his thumb to his mouth and sucks the blood off, hums when he sets his hands in his lap. Grantaire is grateful that vampires are hopeless at smelling pheromones and tries not to appear too obviously turned on when Enjolras looks back at him.

"May I?" He asks and Grantaire really has no idea what he's requesting, but he nods all the same; it would be impossible not to, not with the way Enjolras is looking at him (there is arousal in his blue eyes and Grantaire doesn't care it's for his blood--he'll take what he can get).

Enjolras sets his graceful fingers at Grantaire's chin and tips his face closer, leaning in to lick the thin cut. Grantaire tries not to squirm, though goosebumps appear when Enjolras' fang momentarily touches his bare skin.

He leans back, licking the smear of blood off his bottom lip, and smiles. Abruptly he seems perfectly collected again and his pupils begin to shrink, revealing more and more of his blue irises. "There," he says calmly, "Much better."

Grantaire stares at him, then touches his face. He's surprised to find not even a little bump where the cut had been, and quite belatedly remembers that a vampire's saliva heals wounds. He spares a moment to thank the gods that his agreement to letting Enjolras do that now looks a lot more plausible, and tries to mimic Enjolras' composure when he says, "Yeah, thanks."

"Grantaire," Eponine says from the door, startling him. Enjolras barely looks ruffled, which just annoys Grantaire more (wolves have the better hearing, and Grantaire really should at least _try_ to focus). "Vampires have been sighted."

She wrinkles her nose at the smell in the room, and it takes her all of about a moment to digest what it means. Her dark eyes spark. "I'm sure Courfeyrac can handle it if you're busy," she says coolly.

"No," Grantaire says, standing (a little too quickly for his liking, and the stitches on his chest uncomfortably pull). "I'll take care of it."

He'd already notified his pack that some of Enjolras' friends were going to be stopping by, and most of them had been excited. Enjolras was the only vampire any of them had seen apart from Bossuet, who came from a different pack and had faced a coven of vampires during a turf war.

"Enjolras," he says as he walks to the door, feeling stiff and hating it. "Are you coming?"

Enjolras rises and smiles politely at Eponine, following Grantaire outside. The scent of vampire hangs like a shawl in the air, smelling of blood and death and old books, and they loiter in the shadows of the treeline. They will not be set aflame if they step into the sun but they can sustain terrible burns with prolonged exposure, and they would be likely to take months to heal. It's midday and the sun is ferocious even to the wolves; Courfeyrac, wearing his wolf form, lays on the grass and pants.

"Combeferre," Enjolras says delightedly, and accepts the wide-brimmed hat Eponine offers him, quickly crossing the exposed lawn. Grantaire is surprised to see one of the vampires wearing glasses, and realizes this is the one Enjolras is approaching.

He watches with interest as they greet one another, for there are vampiric customs that Grantaire has only heard about and never seen in action. They clasp one another's forearm and kiss, and the wolves look awkwardly among each other.

"Brother," Enjolras says when he steps back, and Combeferre smiles, politely hiding his fangs. "It's a pleasure to see you."

"You as well," Combeferre answers fondly, and they do not touch again. For the wolves, who touch each other like they're trying to spread a contagious disease, the distance is strange.

"And who have you brought?" Enjolras asks curiously, turning to the other vampires. All of them are dressed the same, garbed in thick black cloaks with hoods pulled safely over their heads. There are six in total, and Grantaire can smell that two of them are women.

Combeferre gestures to his friends and lists them, each nodding when their name is called. "Cosette, Jehan, Bahorel, Joly and Musichetta." He looks past Enjolras at Grantaire, who suddenly notices he's been staring. "And are these your wolves?"

Enjolras chuckles, looking at the pack. All of them are present to see these elusive vampires, and quite a few linger as wolves. Courfeyrac stands and lopes to Grantaire's side, and he rubs his shaggy head while Enjolras introduces them. "This is Grantaire and his beta, Courfeyrac," he says. "They have invited us to stay within their home."

Combeferre is obviously surprised to hear this, and takes a moment to recover from his shock. "Ah," he says, looking sidelong at the broad-shouldered vampire who has drifted to his side. "That's kind of them."

"We have plenty of rooms," Grantaire offers. "And we won't mind the company."

A woman next to Combeferre pulls back her hood and smiles; like all vampires her irises are a color that is just rare enough to be unusual, and the gold hue glints when she shakes her black ringlets out of her face. "We'd love to."

Combeferre looks at her but doesn't dispute it, and Grantaire grins. "Awesome. I'll have Courfeyrac show you to your rooms." Courfeyrac sits down heavily on Grantaire's bare feet, flicking his tail back and forth; the scent of his annoyance is obvious to the wolves but Grantaire is alpha and no one disagrees.

He scratches at the edge of his bandages, bare-chested in the sun, and the young blonde idling next to the black-haired woman tracks the motion. She takes his hand and squeezes, and Grantaire makes a mental note to stay away from that one (he must be new, or hungry; his pupils are so big Grantaire can't even tell what color his irises are).

"Come on," Courfeyrac says, and some of the vampires start; they clearly weren't expecting him to speak. He licks his snout and pulls his lips back and the motion resembles a toothy grin. "Let's get you settled in."

The vampires cover themselves for the short trek across the lawn, and stop on the front doorstep. Grantaire is waiting for Enjolras, who's idling with Combeferre, and doesn't notice.

"Hey, alpha," Courfeyrac says smartly from inside the door, lifting his tail a few inches when Grantaire turns to glare at him. "Can you invite 'em in?"

He snorts and says, "Go on in." The solid barring from the door lifts with his words and the vampires step easily through, no longer hindered by the warding.

"Thank you, sir," a different woman says, this one blonde and apparently old. He can't ever tell with vampires but when she smiles she covers her fangs, and only those who have been turned for a long time ever remember to be polite about flashing their teeth around.

"Once you see your rooms come out to the foyer," Enjolras tells them as he hurries over the grass. He stops when he's in the shade, and Combeferre slides past him inside. "We can talk there."

The pack knows what to do without explicit orders, and Feuilly and Bossuet take off to finish their border patrol, Feuilly purposefully taking Gavroche so he'll stay out of the vampires' way. Eponine goes to the kitchen to pour drinks for everybody and Marius joins her to make himself useful.

In short time it is only Enjolras and Grantaire, standing in the shadow of the house. Grantaire silently regards him, disappointed he hadn't asked Marius to fetch him a beer before he went.

"So," he says, licking his bottom lip. Enjolras watches him impassively. "That licking thing that happened. That was--"

"Weird, yes, I know," Enjolras interrupts, and his smile turns apologetic. "I merely wanted to help."

Grantaire frowns. "No, I was going to say that it was weird, but fine. And thanks, for making it stop bleeding."

Enjolras nods, and Grantaire misses the way the vampire admires his throat when he hears Courfeyrac approaching and turns to look. Enjolras seems perfectly serene when Grantaire looks back at him and says, "I guess we should see to your friends."

"Yes," he replies idly, but this close he can hear the quiet _whoosh_ of Grantaire's blood, traveling through every inch of his body, and the tempo of his pulse. Werewolves breathe faster than humans, Enjolras had noticed, and much slower than vampires, and there's something fascinating about that little hummingbird heartbeat. "We should."

**Author's Note:**

> this chapter is due to Sherrie_H's request that I get off my butt and update so thank you to her because I probably would not have for a while more :)
> 
> title comes from Bela Lagosi but you probably knew that
> 
> uh no more notes for this one, apart from I've been really slyly slipping in more facts about the werewolves and the vampires so hopefully you picked up on them since it'll make it harder if you didn't
> 
> kisses to everybody, tumblr is idfaciendumest, enjoy!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1985271) by [Lizelotta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizelotta/pseuds/Lizelotta)




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